Posting these publicly is making me feel very vulnerable. Usually, on Facebook, I have 4 levels of security. I have my business page, which is curated and created to talk mostly about tarot and my business, and a bit about personal interest (it links from my instagram). There’s my public Facebook, which is still fairly safe for work, but also shows my personality more- my sense of humour, a little more edgy. There’s my friends list, which is a little more personal, and maybe not for the consumption of those browsing who I am. And then, there’s my safe list, which is where I show Oz to those I trust. It’s set for those people who I feel give a crap about me, and want to know what’s really going on in my life. This is where I vent, show insecurities, ask for support, rant, scream, cry. So with this challenge being so very personal, it’s challenging to know that this is out there for all to see- customers and potential clients, casual acquaintances, and close friends alike. It’s like going outside naked… in Canadian January. I am hoping that my vulnerability is seen as inspiring bravery and growth, and not weakness or brokenness. Despite having experienced some really shitty stuff, I’m still a competent tarot reader. really hoping this doesn’t backlash to hurt my business.
Tuesday night was an amazing night! A regular client booked the evening with two of her friends. The tarot room would have been a little too cozy, so we sat at the kitchen table, drank tea, talked and laughed, while I empowered these women with tarot. The next day was such a contrast at the muggle job. I was back to back all day, with my boss nickel and diming me, and deducting me for going the extra mile for my elderly and disabled clients. I would NEVER run a business like that. And I would NEVER discourage an employee from providing good customer service. I was ran off my feet, 9 hours straight with no break (yes, it’s legal because my shifts are 45 minutes long, I just have 9 of them back to back and have to drive from house to house). I found myself at a drive through getting lunch and missing my mother. I haven’t spoken to her in probably six years. For a split second, I entertained contacting her and allowing her back into my life. But then I remembered that letting her in means exposing myself to her lies, theft, fraud, the drugs, and gushing about her latest husband like a teenager. Despite my struggles to be loved, my mother is never single, typically with overlapping relationships between marriages. I need to stay far away from that destructive woman. But I longed for motherly love. I was home sick for a woman who never existed. I put a call out on Facebook for a physical hug. I fully understand that my friends are busy and did not schedule my little emotional breakdown and crying while I’m driving. My friends are allowed to have lives of their own. But I still felt unloved. I still desperately felt like I wanted to be held and do cry on a shoulder of someone who believed in me. I know my friends believe in me. I’m struggling with the fact that my family doesn’t. For the longest time, my dad would not let me say the word “tarot” around him. He would bait me to say it just so he could exude some sort of facade of religious smugness. He really has no idea what I do, or how good I am at it. He’s kinda shut his mouth about how much he hates tarot since he started seeing how lucrative it is, and how poor my muggle job working conditions are. I ache to hear him tell me that he believes in me. Or at least, for him to listen to what it is I do, and how I make such a profound difference in the lives of my clients. It’s still that Empress energy that I crave- that nurturing, accepting love that I have never really known. I have entered my first depressive episode since starting medication over a year ago. I am really hoping that the next 21 days improve this situation.
Ritual happened late into the night, and was blogged about the next day.